


All Your Feelings Are MINE

by Angel_Wings14



Series: Stingy Fingers [2]
Category: LazyTown, One Direction (Band), Salad Fingers
Genre: Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Blood Donation, Crack Treated Seriously, Disturbing Themes, Explosions, Kissing, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Needles, One Direction Reunion, Sharks, nettles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Wings14/pseuds/Angel_Wings14
Summary: Following the events of Stingy fingers, the five times Salad Fingers and Stingy got hot and heavy, and the one time they went all the way… Happy Hallowe'en everyone!
Relationships: Robbie Rotten/Sportacus, Stingy/Salad Fingers
Series: Stingy Fingers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992667
Kudos: 4





	All Your Feelings Are MINE

**Author's Note:**

> I know literally no-one asked for this… and yet here we are XD

**One**

Stingy and Salad Fingers had been going steady for a while now, but they had only shared the smallest of kisses on doorsteps after their dates. Salad Fingers knew there was so much more they could do together, but he didn’t want to pressure Stingy. Also, he knew that Stingy didn’t like to pursue these sorts of activities in public. He liked to keep these moments for himself.

But then, one day, Stingy suggested that he take Salad Fingers out in his car to the top of the mountain that overlooked Lazy Town. Salad Fingers didn’t know if Stingy knew that was a popular place for teenagers to go to make out and… touch each other. He was trying not to get too excited at the prospect, because maybe Stingy was taking him up there for the view.

The drive was quiet, but this wasn’t unusual for them. They had reached the point in their relationship where they were able to enjoy the presence of the other without filling the air with idle chatter.

They reached the top of the hill, and Salad Fingers was relieved to see that they were the only ones up there. The sun was beginning to set, lighting up Stingy’s features in beautiful golden hues. He had always suited the colour yellow, and that had never been more true.

“Salad Fingers,” Stingy said, fidgeting a little in his seat. “I – I – The sunset looks nice.”  
Salad Fingers could tell that wasn’t what Stingy wanted to say, but knew that if it was important, he would eventually say it. Instead, he simply replied, “Y-yes, it is.”

After a few minutes of watching the sky shift colours, Stingy broke the silence once more.

“Salad Fingers?” He ventured. Salad Fingers turned to look his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Yes my- my love?” He prompted.

Stingy opened his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing came out, he gave in and just smashed his face into Salad Fingers’. It was inelegant, all teeth and noses in the wrong places, but Salad Fingers shuddered under the assault. He lifted up his hand to Stingy’s head, running his salad fingers over the glossy locks he found there.

This touch reassured Stingy, and his fervour died down to a more reasonable level. As the kiss mellowed it got better. There was less teeth and more tongue, and soon the windows were beginning to fog, blotting out the setting sun.

Salad Fingers was getting a little excited.

He pulled away and, in his quavering voice, moaned out, “Ooooh Stingy.”

His hands began to wander, down Stingy’s neck, over the shiny buttons of his waist coat, and gently traced over the evidence of Stingy’s own excitement. But when Salad Fingers began to press a little harder, Stingy pushed his hand away.

They separated and Stingy eyed Salad Fingers warily.

“Do-do you not want me to to-touch you?” Salad Fingers asked sadly.

“It’s not that,” replied Stingy, pausing to think through his next words. “It’s just I’ve never done anything like that, and I want MY first time to be special. My parents are so conservative, so I want you to be all MINE… you know, before I give you all of ME.”  
“I don’t uh-understand,” Salad Fingers frowned.

“I’m _saying_ we should wait until we’re married,” Stingy said, rolling his eyes. Despite his conviction he was embarrassed and nervous to be saying these things. It wasn’t usual for a teen boy to hold these views anymore, and he worried that it would turn Salad Fingers away.

Salad Fingers blinked slowly as he took this in. His head twitched a little, steam escaping his ears as the cogs whirred and turned. Finally, he stilled.

“Oh- Ok,” he said. “I guess we’ll have to get married then.”

Stingy felt his heart swell and sing. He was so happy!  
“One day you will be completely mine!” he crowed and proceeded to kiss Salad Fingers well into the night, in his car on the top of the mountain.

**Two**

It was summer, and Stingy and Salad Fingers had decided to take a walk around the fields that surrounded the woods on the edge of Lazy Town. Their hands swung between them, intertwined in ways that wouldn’t be possible if one of them didn’t have salad fingers.

As they wandered, they strayed a little off the beaten path. As their feet swept through the patches of wildflowers, they disturbed a fluttering of butterflies, causing them to erupt around them in a storm of powdery wings. Salad Fingers’ eyes lit up with excitement, and chased after them, tongue extended in an attempt to snare one for a light snack. Unfortunately, as closely interlinked as they were, he ended up dragging Stingy with him.

Stingy yelled out, no words just an incomprehensible string of pained noises.

At the sound, Salad Fingers abruptly stopped. Stingy, still full of forward momentum, came barrelling into him, pushing them both to the ground right into a bushel of nettles. As Stingy had landed on top, Salad Fingers bore the brunt of the nettle’s stings, and it filled his brain with hazy pleasure.

The swelling of Salad Fingers’ exposed skin and the pressure of his boyfriend straddling him was almost too much for Salad Fingers to bare. He shivered and shuddered excitedly.

Stingy struggled to stand up, worried his boyfriend was hurt, but this resulted in him just wriggling and writhing against him more. Now they were both getting excited.

Their eyes caught, stilling them both. They panted as they tried to calm down.

After an interminable moment, the extricated themselves from their compromising position and walked the rest of the way with a safe space of 3 feet between them.

**Three**

It was their three-year anniversary. Salad Fingers had decided to treat his beloved boyfriend to dinner at the best restaurant in Lazy Town.

Stingy, the cheeky chappy that he was, decided to order the salad appetiser. He knew what eating salad did to his boyfriend. Oh yes, he thought, the power is all mine.

His tongue caressed the carrot sticks up and down and back up again, maintaining eye contact as he did so.

He sucked the tomatoes into his mouth with a satisfying pop, cheeks hollowed as he rolled them around inside with his tongue.

The lettuce was picked up, not with a fork, but with his hand. Each ridge was explored with a delicate fingertip. When it finally reached his mouth, Stingy rubbed it against his lips. His eyes finally slipped shut as he nibbled the leaf, moaning as the crisp juices burst over his tongue.

Salad Fingers watched this display, rapt and panting. He wouldn’t be able to leave his seat for a while that was for sure.

**Four**

Sportacus was very excited about the blood drive that was coming to Lazy Town. They didn’t have a big hospital here, so each year a van came round and set up for blood donations in the town square.

Salad Fingers saw Sportacus and Robbie Rotten handing out leaflets together. Robbie didn’t look too thrilled to be there but kept stealing glances as Sportacus whenever he looked away, features softening at the smile he saw there. Curious, Salad Fingers collected a leaflet for himself. The page was covered in rusty red writing, splashes of blood decorating the corners.

Stingy, out for a walk between his work assignments, found Salad Fingers leaning heavily against the wall, leaflet clutched in his salad fingers. An idea formed in Stingy’s head.

The day the blood donation van set up, Stingy went round to where Salad Fingers was staying in Robbie Rotten’s house. He had a blindfold ready, and Salad Fingers eagerly let Stingy tie it over his eyes.

“Wh-where are we going?” he asked, as Stingy led him through the streets by the hand.

“I can’t tell you, that would ruin MY surprise!” Stingy exclaimed.

Soon they were at the town square, and Stingy ripped off the blindfold. As Salad Fingers’ eyes adjusted to the light, blinking in and out of focus, the scent of blood hit him. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in the van with the red cross and the nurses bustling to and fro.

“O-oh Stingy!” Salad Fingers gasped. “H-how did you know?”

Stingy puffed up with pride. His date ideas were always the best.

When it came to their turn to give blood, Stingy went first.

“You’ll feel a sharp scratch,” the nurse offered as she inserted the needle. Stingy cringed and whimpered as it slid into his arm. Salad Fingers licked his lips as he watched the thick red water inch it’s way through the tube into the awaiting bag. It filled quickly, rocking in its little automated cradle, and all too soon the needle was pulled out and the puncture covered with a swab of cotton.

Stingy munched on a complimentary biscuit as Salad Fingers took his turn in the chair. He was disappointed his request to have the same needle as Stingy was denied, but the fresh needle penetrating his skin was still orgasmic. He watched his own blood leave his body, feeling the rush tingle through him. His blood was quite thin, so it took even less time for his donation to be completed.

Salad Fingers looked over at Stingy while they took the needle back out, watching as he licked the biscuit crumbs off his fingers. Eyes rolling back into his head at the sensation and the visual, Salad Fingers let pleasure flood every cell.

**Five**

The sun was hot in Fiji and Stingy had never been happier to be sweating through his t-shirt.

The previous day, Salad Fingers had taken them for a walk to a picturesque garden and there, in front of the fountain, had gotten down on one knee and presented Stingy with a shiny golden ring. Stingy had cried and said yes a thousand times, sweeping his now-finance into his arms. The ring was a little loose on his finger, and Salad Fingers slipped it on and off a few times, enjoying the smooth slide. Stingy promised that when they got home he would find the rustiest ring in return, to encircle Salad Fingers’ salad finger.

But now they were in the queue for a swimming with sharks experience. Stingy loved to snorkel and Salad Fingers loved sharks, it was the perfect celebratory activity. When it came to their turn, the bored man in the squat shed tried to hand out rentable snorkels and life vests. Stingy turned up his nose at the offer.

“Ugh, I wouldn’t use that old thing! No, we will be using our own, thank you very much,” he said, and flounced away, Salad Fingers in tow.

They were supposed to be going in a group with a trained guide, but Stingy and Salad Fingers wanted some time to themselves, so they swam a short way from the crowd. As they floated on the surface, hulking shapes of well-fed sharks lazy passed below them. They ocean floor was visible in the clear water.

A colourful shoal of fish passed by, but Salad Fingers was distracted by a particularly large shark. Stingy waved to get his attention, gesturing at the fish wildly. As he did, the ring on his finger slipped off and plummeted down into the depths.

Without thinking, Salad Fingers tore off his life jacket and, with one huge breath, dove down after the gold. Stingy could only look on in horror as his fiancé dodged the large sharks. He kept going and going, deeper and deeper. It seemed he must have surely reached the ocean floor by now but in the clear water depth can be deceptive.

Salad Fingers could feel the pressure increasing, making his ears pop and squeal. Still he kept going, air burning in his lungs as he continued down. He could feel the tips of his fingers going numb, the overwhelming urge to breath filling his mind until he thought he would go crazy with the desire. Salad Fingers finally made it to where the ring had nestled into the sand, but as his salad fingers closed around it his vision turned grey, then black.

Stingy, seeing Salad Fingers go limp, also stripped off his life jacket. Salad Fingers was starting to float upwards, so Stingy didn’t have to dive down too far before he could reach him and drag him back up to the surface.

Filled with adrenaline, Stingy managed to tow Salad Fingers to the shore. He quickly started CPR, pushing the water out of Salad Fingers’ lungs and pressing in air from his own in return. Stingy was starting to panic.

Just then, Salad Fingers gasped into consciousness against Stingy’s lips. The rush of the air to his brain triggered a rush of pleasure throughout his body, immediately sparking an orgasm, despite the fact he wasn’t hard.

“Oh, Salad Fingers!” Stingy cried. “I thought I had lost you! You can’t do that to me again! You can’t! You’re MINE!”

Salad Fingers couldn’t respond verbally, still trembling through the aftershocks. Instead he held up his hand, uncurling the fist to reveal the gold ring. Stingy cried harder and clung to his neck.

**+1**

All of Lazy Town were so excited. They had all spent weeks planning this wedding and now the day was here.

Stephanie had been toiling away in the kitchen, making cake. Sportacus had been by her side, making all the hors d’oeuvres. The mayor had granted them permission to use the town hall for the ceremony, and Ziggy and Trixie had had a lot of fun setting up the decorations. Salad Fingers was in charge of the music, for he had a wonderful idea, and he had worked hard with Pixel to set up the stage, lights and microphones for the band he had hired. Stingy was in charge of clothes, and he had plans and colour schemes that everyone needed to stick to, because this was HIS day and they were doing it HIS way.

Robbie Rotten had sulked for a while after the wedding chores were delegated, because he had nothing to do.

“But I wanted to do the clothes,” he whined to Sportacus later that night. “I don’t know what else I can do; costumes are my thing!”

“Whabousplosi?” Sportacus murmured into his neck.

“What?”

Sportacus lifted his head. “I said, what about explosives? You’re good at those too, and it’s always fun to have fireworks at a celebration.”  
“Yes!” Robbie Rotten exclaimed, bolting upright in bed. He was so caught up the idea that he didn’t return to Sportacus’ side until the early hours of the morning, fingers stained with ink from his plans.

So, Robbie had also been busy, setting up for a spectacular finale at precisely the stroke of midnight. It was going to be wonderful.

But now, the time had come.

Salad Fingers wrung his hands nervously as he stood at the alter in his stiff suit jacket. The music started and Salad Fingers turned in time to see the doors at the back open to reveal… an angel. Petals fell gracefully at his feet as he stepped forward, a vision in a yellow suit. A single tear rolled down Salad Fingers’ face.

Stingy finally reached the top of the aisle, reaching for Salad Fingers as soon as he could. Everyone in the audience was smiling, so happy their friends had made it here.

The mayor stepped up, book open ready to officiate.

“We are all gathered here today to witness the union of Salad Fingers and Stingy Spoilero. Now I have been told you have prepared vows.”

At their nods, he stepped back for them to take over. Stingy cleared his throat.

“Firstly, thank you all for coming to MY wedding,” he started, but then looked at Salad Fingers and with a soft gaze continued, “or should I say OUR wedding.”

“Awwww!” The audience cooed.

“I-I could never have thought of a better person to share this with,” Salad Fingers agreed.

“I never really was one for sharing, but sharing with you doesn’t seem so horrible,” Stingy smiled.

“E-ever since I came to Lazy Town, I knew that I would do anything for you,” Salad Fingers said caressing Stingy’s face with his salad fingers.

“I said it then, and I’ll say it now. You’re MINE.”

“I am yours, u-until my dying day.”

After an uncomfortably long moment, the mayor stepped back in.

“Good! Yes,” he blustered. “Uh, where was I… Oh yes! Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be wed?”

No one moved.

“Then do you Stingy Spoilero, take this Salad Fingers, to be your lawfully wedded husband, till death do you part?”  
“I will!” Stingy said assertively.

“And do you, Salad Fingers, take this Stingy Spoilero to be your lawfully wedded husband, till death do you part?”  
“I-I will,” Salad Fingers said tearfully.

“And so, by the power vested in me by the council of Lazy town, I now pronounce you married.”

There was a rapturous round of applause, drowning out the Mayor’s permission for them to kiss, but Stingy and Salad Fingers didn’t need it, for they were already kissing.

They ran out of the hall, hand-in-hand, ready to start partying in the town square. The rest of their friends followed them out, cheering and hollering their delight.

As they emerged into the evening light, Stingy’s eyes fell upon the stage. And there was his all-time favourite band, finally reunited after many years apart. One Direction.

He gasped aloud, his body shaking in excitement. He turned to his new husband.

“Did you do this?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“Y-yes,” Salad Fingers answered. “I-I thought it would please you… S-so I pulled a few strings. Turns out Hubert Cumberdale knows James Corden.”

Stingy nodded along sagely. Indeed, if anyone could get the boys back together, it would be James Corden.

As the last of the wedding guests filtered out of the hall and gathered around the makeshift dance floor, 1D started up playing the most perfect first dance song.

“ _Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me,”_ Zayn sang.

Salad Fingers offered up his hand, Stingy sliding his into the groove in his salad fingers that he had worn away from years of holding it. They pressed together, swaying to the beat.

“I’m in love with you, and all these little things,” Stingy sang along, head resting in the crook of Salad Fingers’ neck.

Salad Fingers found himself caught up in the lyrics, swept away by the feelings he had for the man in his arms.

“ _You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you, and you'll never treat yourself right darlin', but I want you to. If I let you know, I'm here for you…Maybe you'll love yourself like I_ (“You Sing,” Stingy whispered) _love you_.”

The words were so right for this moment. Salad Fingers wished he could say something so beautiful to his husband, but he would only stutter and get it wrong. He felt proud that he had chosen the music well.

As the night progressed, One Direction ran through almost every song in their repertoire. Everyone danced and sang and ate cake. It was the most wonderful of evenings. At one point, Salad Fingers broke out his flute and played next to Liam on the stage. How they all laughed in merriment.

As midnight neared, Robbie Rotten started to get nervous. He had packed his homemade fireworks under the stage and set them on a timer. The band didn’t seem to be finishing up any time soon, but he needed them to go.

But how could he stop them without seeming like the ultimate party pooper? But if he didn’t this could be disastrous.

It was three and a half minutes to midnight, and Robbie quickly ran over to Stingy to tell him 1D had to get off the stage. But he was interrupted by a guitar riff, and Stingy screamed in excitement. He was no longer listening. The crowd erupted into cheering and dancing as the _Best Song Ever_ played.

As the final note hung in the air, the first boom shook the stage. Partygoers flung themselves to the floor as, in bright flashes, the fireworks tore the stage and all those on it into pieces with colourful fire. Crackles and hisses and flares continued to light up the faces of the horrified onlookers. There was nothing they could do.

Once the ambulances and fire engines cleared, Stingy and Salad Fingers retired to their room for the night. They had both been looking forward to this part, but how could they finally join in body and soul in the wake of such a tragedy?

Stingy slowly peeled off his slightly singed yellow suit, but he could feel eyes on him. He turned, trousers halfway down his legs, to see Salad Fingers staring open mouthed. He was breathing heavily. He had never seen so much exposed skin. It was truly tantalising.

Seeing his husband so affected by his body, Stingy felt a stirring low in his gut. Maybe they could make the most of this wedding night after all. It’s what One Direction would want, he was sure.

“You can touch me if you want,” Stingy whispered hoarsely.

That was all it took for Salad Fingers to make his way over to his husband, lovingly running a salad finger over his torso. As it brushed Stingy’s nipple, his breath hitched at the sensation. Salad Fingers smiled. He knew how sensitive a nipple could be. He wondered if he could make a little milk come out of Stingy’s teat, or if he would have to wait to milk him elsewhere. He fondled and caressed the nipple some more, and while Stingy seemed to be enjoying himself there was no milk.

He slowly pushed Stingy’s trousers down the rest of the way, taking in the smooth expanse of Stingy’s thighs. Salad Fingers’ tongue snaked out of his mouth and flickered up and down the length. Stingy could feels his eyes roll back into his skull at the sensation.

Feeling a little vulnerable, Stingy sought to even the playing field by pushing Salad Fingers’ shirt off of his shoulders. He was so glad the buttons were already undone from his foray into flute playing on stage, for Stingy’s fingers were shaking from nerves. He knelt down so he was eye-level with the button on Salad Fingers’ trousers. After a couple of tries, he managed to get it undone.

Salad Fingers’ hands joined Stingy’s as they both worked together to pull down Salad Fingers’ trousers. Stingy was intimidated by the impressive bulge in Salad Fingers’ underwear. They had previously discussed how they wanted this night to go and had both agreed that Stingy would be the one to bottom. But now Stingy wasn’t so sure.

“Le-lets get into the bed,” Salad Fingers suggested.

Stingy agreed that would be a good idea. Kissing Salad Fingers enthusiastically he walked backwards until his knees buckled against the edge of the mattress, dragging his husband down with him. They rutted against each other for a moment until it was too much and not enough.

Screwing up his courage, Stingy reached down and shimmied out of his boxer shorts. Salad fingers salivated at the sight before him.

“I-I shall call him… Barry Robertson,” he said fondly, smiling down at the penis before him.

He then quickly followed suit, shedding his tighty-whiteys.

Stingy was not sure what he was expecting to see when he looked down, but that was not it. Where he had a perfectly normal penis, Salad Fingers had… a cucumber. It was swollen and dark green, veins pulsing down its length. It was also HUGE. There was no way that would ever fit anywhere in Stingy, much less his tightest hole.

Salad Fingers held himself in hand, taking in Stingy’s wide-eyed stare.

“I-is everything alright?” he asked.

“That’s not going to fit!” Stingy said breathlessly.

“O-oh it’s ok,” Salad Fingers reassured. “I can ma-make it smaller if you like…”  
Stingy wasn’t sure how that was possible, but he nodded in acquiescence.

Salad Fingers reached over into the drawer and pulled out what looked like a potato peeler. He smiled at Stingy before placing the blade to his manhood. Carefully he scraped away the dark green skin, revealing the lighter, fleshy underneath.

Salad Fingers shuddered as he continued to shave away layers from between his legs.

Stingy’s hand came up to cover Salad Fingers’ on the handle of the peeler. Together they worked to make Salad Fingers a more manageable size. The surface of the appendage was also now slippery, shining with juices. Those juices were also all over Stingy’s fingers.

Using the wetness there as lubrication, he reached behind himself and started to work his hole open, one finger at a time. Salad Fingers liked watching this carnal side of Stingy. His head was thrown back in exultation, exposing the long line of his throat. Salad Fingers wanted to lick it, and he realised there was nothing stopping him from giving into the urge, so he did.

Once Stingy was sufficiently stretched open, they kissed once more. It was deep and moist.

“I love you,” Stingy whispered into Salad Fingers’ shoulder as the peeled cucumber was positioned against his fluttering rim.

“I-I love you too,” Salad Fingers replied as he pushed in, slimy flesh smoothing the way, making it easy to find that special spot inside of Stingy.

They set up a decent rhythm, moving against each other in ecstasy. Salad Fingers wrapped his hand around Stingy’s penis, tugging in time to his thrusting and Stingy wailed.

“Oh yes! Salad Fingeerrrrrrrsssss,” he cried. “Yes YES! You’re MINE! Mine, all mine, yes yes yes.”

Salad Fingers moaned and shivered, not as loud in his pleasure. In a few short thrusts, Stingy came, milky fluids shooting out onto Salad Fingers’ chest. Salad Fingers quickly followed.

They collapsed down together, tangled in a heap atop the sheets.

Salad Fingers was beginning to look pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead from more than just exertion.

“Are you… Are you alright?” Stingy asked, ever the doting husband.

“I-I’m afraid that the penis mutilation process might have been a bit much for me,” he confessed, voice cracking as pain swept through him, for the first time not causing him any kind of pleasure.

“What? No!” Stingy cried. “What do you mean?”  
“I do-don’t think I’ll see the morning with you, my love…”

“No that can’t be!” Stingy protested. “I’ve only just got you. You’re mine. You can’t go.”  
“I must,” Salad Fingers sighed, voice starting to fade. “I love you, Stingy… I’m so glad… I-I got to be…Yours.”

And with a final shuddering exhale, Salad Fingers went limp in Stingy’s arms, never to awake.

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> To all the Directioners reading this fic (like my housemate who insisted on this story line), they had to die for the next instalment of this series *wink wink*. Nuff said. To all the Salad Fingers stans, worry not, his sacrifice will not be the end of his story.   
> As always, we are so sorry (but really are we?! Lol)


End file.
